


Think Twice

by actualtrashcan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A baby dies in this story, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Awkwardness, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bullying, Edin is only mentioned, Fangirls, Homophobic Language, If that bothers you please dont read, M/M, Nice Lori, Ron is a fangirl, Swearing, Weird Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualtrashcan/pseuds/actualtrashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She only talked about Carl. Carl the blue eyed beauty, Carl with the chocolate brown locks and pale skin and cool scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think Twice

Ron met Carl in high school. Truthfully, Carl never struck Ron as the type to be a 'chick magnet' as some call it. Yet, there he was in eleventh grade, surrounded by a swarm of girls, all oohing and ahhing over his scars. Ron had also wondered about the scars. The only reason he knew about Carl in the first place was Edin. Edin was one of the girls who flocked to him, like a literal magnet at lunch and in the hallways. She only talked about Carl. Carl the blue eyed beauty, Carl with the chocolate brown locks and pale skin and cool scars.  
God, Ron got tired of it eventually. So tired, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He admit, he had a slight crush on Enid, and was a little bit jealous of Carl, who got her undivided attention; though also a little pissed at him for not even taking a single glance at Enid while she gaped at him.  
But there was no denying that Ron was bisexual, and everybody knew it, unortunately. Or, the wrong people, knew it, he should say. All the bullies, the bullies' 'hot' girlfriends. The cliques, groupies, and even the die hard Christian groupies knew it and gave him disgusting glances in the hallway.  
Deciding there was really nothing else to lose, Ron decided to make his move in English. Mrs. Smith never really allowed talking in her class, and it just so happens that Carl is also alone without his groupies of fangirls in English class, except for Ron who I guess you could say accepted his fangirling over him. It was a plus that Mrs. Smith was absent that day and an old substitute was in her place, who just stared at the book and droned on in the background. Seeing the opportunity, Ron slid into the desk next to Carl, in the left corner of the classroom, farthest in the back.  
Carl's head was resting on his hands, elbows on the table, staring with strained eyes at the page in front of him. "Uh, hi, Carl. I'm Ron." Ron said nervously, turning slightly in his seat to face him. The classroom hadn't quite filled up yet, students still filed in from the door and it was quiet except for the substitute and the ticking of the clock. Oh, and of course, Ron's heart beating a million times a minute.  
Carl looked startled, sitting up and slouching slightly, looking at Ron with an odd look. He raised a brown eyebrow. "How do you know my name?" He wasn't asking it as a threat, or in a 'are you a stalker' kind of way, but he did ask it in a way like he knew the reason Ron noticed was from him admiring him from afar.  
Ron attempted to back pedal. "Enid!" He blurted out a little too loudly, causing several students to glance back, before returning to their own work. Ron's cheeks burned bright red. "Enid," Ron repeated quieter. "She's my friend, and she talks about you a lot." Suddenly, Ron realized he had practically just thrown his friend on the spot about being a stalker. "Not all the time but like, she uh. She likes you. Not like that though, but like.." Ron flung his hands around trying to explain himself, while Carl looked at him, tilting his head slightly and grinning. "I give up," Ron groaned, sliding down into his seat and letting his head fall onto the desk in front of him.  
"Ron?" Carl asked softly, and the sound of Carl's voice saying his name made his heart flutter like nobody else had before. Ron glanced up at Carl. "My family has this idiotic 'family movie night' every Friday night. It's pretty crappy to suffer through so many Disney movies alone. Wanna come over? I promise you, Frozen is better than it looks." His words were followed by a half smile, where his eyes creased up as his cheeks pushed up. It made Ron smile.  
"Sure, I would love to. At least if we die from Disney overdose, we can die together." Ron said before thinking, and he regretted it until he saw a slight red tint come to Carl's cheeks. 

While they were waiting for Carl's dad to pick them up outside of the school, Ron and Carl talked some more. "So, Enid, huh? She likes me?" Carl questioned in a way a shy third grader would ask, in one of those notes that has you circle yes or no.  
Ron suddenly turned green on the inside with envy. "Yes." He said quietly, shuffling his feet. "I guess you like her, too. She's really nice, how could anybody not like her?" Though the words that came out meant sweet things, they were coated with jealousy. Ron felt eyes burning into him and he turned to look at Carl, meeting his eyes.  
"I don't like girls." Carl said, matter of fact. Ron only blinked, and he mentally kicked himself for not saying anything else. Thankfully, Carl continued. "You like her, though." He smirked.  
Ron looked astonished. "What? No! She's just a friend. I mean.." Ron's words suddenly turned to mutters and he let his sentence trail off. "I like a lot of people." He dropped his gaze and stared at his shoes. It was getting overcast, and Ron begged the weather to hold out a little longer.  
"Oh yeah? Like who?" Carl pushed, deciding to drop down on the sidewalk, setting his backpack next to him. Ron followed, awkwardly setting his between his feet.  
Ron thought for a moment. He tapped his finger against his chin for dramatic purposes. "Liam Hemsworth, Taylor Lautner, Evan Peters, Lana Del Rey."  
Carl eyed him peculiarly, still smirking. "Three out of four of those were guys, Ron." And there goes his heart fluttering at him saying Ron again.  
He brushed it off with a shrug. "I guess we both like guys." And that was it.  
Carl stood up with his backpack in hand as a pick up truck pulled up to the curb, halting to a stop loudly. Carl nodded his head towards the back seat. Ron had expected Carl to sit up front, and Ron to sit in the back alone, but Carl settled into the back seat with Ron and it made him happier than he'd like to admit.  
Carl introduced his dad as Rick, who gave him a head nod in the mirror and mind numbing small talk ensued.  
By the time they reached Carl's house, Rick had probably interrogated the living hell out of Ron, and it all made sense when Carl told him that Rick was a police officer. However, it didn't make him feel uneasy, because as soon as Ron took a step inside the Grimes household, he felt a part of it. Lori, Carl's mom, hugged him openly and squeezed him tightly.  
"It's so nice to see Carl bringing home a friend!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands in the typical mom way. "Are you boys hungry?" Lori changed the subject then, noticing how Carl uncomfortably shifted when she brought up him bringing home a friend. Ron nodded slightly, nervous at first to seem demanding, but Lori smiled.  
Ron and Carl were only an hour into the night together, they had known each other for maybe four hours, and yet. They felt like they knew each other forever. Ron, Lori, Rick, and Carl all sat around the kitchen table, enjoying a nice meal of steak, peas and mashed potatoes. Lori insisted she never cooked this nice for just the three of them, and it made Ron feel special.  
When movie night started, the awkwardness of finding a place to sit began. Ron took in the living room scene, a large couch with three cushions, and a smaller one with only two cushions, forming a ninety degree angle. Lori was already tired so she took up two cushions on the bigger couch, huddled in a blanket. Rick sat on the third at her feet, and that left Carl and Ron to share the smaller couch. They had no issues with it. The movie droned on, something about a reindeer and two girls or something, Ron wasn't sure. All he was sure of, was somehow he fell asleep, and somehow, his head was leaning against Carl's shoulder. 

 

When Ron woke up, a splitting headache greeted him on top of Carl dropping a blanket on top of him. When his eyes fluttered open, Carl frowned. "Shit," he hissed under his breath. "I didn't mean to wake you up, I'm sorry. It's just, my mom keeps the house freezing with a capital 'F' so I figured, you know." He stopped then because Ron knew.  
"Hungry?" Carl asked, picking up Ron's feet in a certain way that was rough and boyish, but when he let them fall onto his lap, it was somehow the most gentle movement. Now, Ron was curled up in a ball under a fluffy blanket, his feet resting awkwardly close to Carl's pants. He hoped Carl didn't somehow have a foot fetish, and this thought made him chuckle. Carl looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  
"Oh," Ron said, stopping. "Yeah, I actually am." He remembered his headache when a sharp pain appeared in the back of his skull. "And uh, aspirin. I'd like an aspirin pill."  
Carl nodded, picking up Ron's feet again and setting them back down gently on the cushion he had just sat on; it was warm and it warmed up Ron's feet before he even realized they were cold. Not having anything else to do but stare at things while Carl was gone, Ron took up looking at all the pictures. Carl, Lori, and Rick in the cheesiest 'we're a family and we're happy' photo pose ever, Lori and Rick's hands resting on Carl's shoulder. He looked much younger there, and Ron wondered how it was possible for him to still be so cute, even that young.  
Ron's eyes slid over the dark green walls, to another picture. Framed high above the rest, was a small, bright pink baby with a white cap on. It still had it's hospital bands on, and breathing tubes were stuck all over it. Ron smiled for a moment, thinking it was cute. Then he realized, there wasn't a baby here. He brushed it off when Carl came back in with his aspirin and a stack of pancakes.  
He downed the pancakes and aspirin with a swig of coke, getting up and placing the dishes in the sink. While in the kitchen, he rest his hands against the counter, gripping it hard for some reason. "Hey, Carl?" He called into the living room. Carl appeared in the kitchen archway, a curious look on his face.  
"Yeah, man?" Carl responded casually, the smile still playing at his lips.  
Ron held his breath. "Where's the baby?" He closed his eyes, though Carl couldn't see, and neither could he - Ron knew the smile on Carl's lips disappeared.  
There was nothing but silence for a while. "My baby sister," Carl started, mumbling almost to himself. "She lived to the very ripe age of six hours." This hit Ron hard. He turned around quickly, eyes darting to Carl, who was playing with a lose string on his hoodie while leaning against the wall.  
"Fuck. I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sor-" Carl cut him off.  
"It's alright, Ron. Hey," Carl said, the smile already back on his lips. "My parents trust us enough to be alone for the day, so you know what that means, right?" When Ron didn't answer, Carl rolled his eyes. "It means whatever we want it to mean. Just, except no wild parties, of course. That's one way for you to never be allowed back here again." He laughed and Ron swore it was an angel laughing.

They opted to video games in Carl's room, until Ron decided he was tired of getting his ass beat. Tossing his controller on Carl's plaid comforter, he stood up and stretched. "Cheater," he muttered at Carl, who shrugged with a satisfied grin.  
"If you want, get the Game Cube from the closet." Carl motioned to the closet door. "Maybe you'll have a chance to beat me."  
Ron trudged over to the closet door, with full intention to just retrieve the Game Cube until he moved a few things around while searching, unveiling a small, electric piano. A tiny layer of dust coated the keys. He looked back at Carl, who seemed more involved with the game than what he just discovered. "You know this is back here, Carl, right?" Ron asked, blowing off the dust gently and tugging it out of its hiding spot. Ron quickly glanced at the mess in the closet for a stand, but saw none. He didn't mind, he still retrieved the cable and plugged it in, sitting in front of it.  
"What?" Carl asked, finally pausing the game and turning to Ron. "Oh, yeah." He muttered, genuinely not caring. He turned off the game and turned to Ron, watching. "My parents had this dream of everybody in my family playing an instrument. Kinda like those, uh. Big tv families that play like twenty instruments, you know? Mine was a piano. I didn't get to choose, and because of that, that thing hasn't been touched for six years. I don't even know if it'd still wo-" Carl shut up when Ron pressed down gently on a few keys, the melodic sound ringing out in the open room. Suddenly, Carl became interested and slid off the bed, sitting next to Ron. He leaned against his bed, closing his eyes.  
"I know how to play. A little bit, that's it.." Ron said, a little sadness following his words. Still, he arranged his fingers and slowly began playing a song he knew by heart - Fur Elise.  
Carl's eyes opened slowly at the sound of Ron playing, and he eyes watched as the boy's long fingers trailed on the keys, pressing with gentle force, before dragging to a new key. Carl never knew hands could be so graceful.  
Carl leaned forward a little further, only to see that Ron's eyes were closed in concentration, his fingers practically on auto pilot. A smile was on his lips as memories of how to play came back into his mind.  
Something, deep down, inside Carl clicked. In his mind, his heart, his gut. Something about the way those fingers moved, the way his breathing was even, something about his hair that was pushed back in that beanie of his, something about Ron that Carl liked. He would dare say he loved it. And, Carl knew. Ron hadn't said hi to him today in English for shits and giggles, he was jealous. Jealous of Carl, jealous of Enid being with Carl all the time, but in reality? Carl didn't notice Enid. In reality, Carl always snuck glances at Ron. At the odd boy who sat alone, doodled on his notebook and always ate only half his lunch. The boy who got called a 'fag' by bullies and a 'prick' and 'fuck up' by everybody who didn't even know him. A hint of sadness crept into Carl's mind when he thought of that, but then he realized.  
Now, Ron is here. In his room. Playing on the keyboard ever so gently, and he is happy. Carl can tell by just how pure the grin is on his face, but most importantly, how Ron stops playing when Carl presses their lips together, only to reach his arms towards him and wrap them around Carl's waist.  
Carl's hand rest on the back of Ron's neck, ushering him closer and he let himself be pulled closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It was this exact moment that Ron noticed Carl's eyelashes were so long, they fluttered against his cheek ever so softly when they pulled apart to breathe. When they opened their eyes, they immediately gazed into each others eyes. Ron's heart beat out of his chest as he slid his hands over Carl's, which now rest on his thighs. He gently squeezed them and smiled wide.  
"Does that count as a wild party, you think?" Carl joked, his voice cracking slightly. He bit his lip and it made Ron's mind go crazy.  
Ron retorted with a wink, "No, we have self control, I think."  
Carl's eyes were so bright, his smile lighting up the entire room with perfection in Ron's eyes. "Hey, Ron?" Carl whispered to Ron in the fading light of the room they didn't even notice until now.  
Ron's eyes kept Carl's gaze. "Yes?"  
"Do you think you could play some more?" Carl asked shyly, and Ron nodded slowly. Releasing Carl's hands, he turned back to the instrument and thought for a moment, before beginning to let his fingers dance across the keyboard, playing 'All of Me'. For a moment, Ron didn't know if Carl knew what the song was, or how much it applied to him. But after Carl placed a soft, sweet kiss on Ron's cheek, Ron knew.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like Rarl, I suggest heading over to thisapathy's page! http://archiveofourown.org/users/thisapathy  
> They write amazing stories, and they're what inspired me to write these in the first place :)


End file.
